Hate and Love
by IvoryKeys97
Summary: This story takes place after Season 7 Episode 1. Daryl was never taken and remains with Rick and the others. A new character named Avery is introduced. Romance/Violence
1. Chapter 1

**This is my very first fan fiction, so comments and feedback are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!**

The world was dark. At least, that's what it seemed like when I finally came to.

My eyes felt heavy, and my head was pounding from where I had been hit. I could still faintly taste the blood that was still in my mouth, and with that, memories from earlier started to resurface.

 _"_ _Now you're gonna be a good girl, correct?"_

 _Lying practically lifeless on the ground, I'm too weak to tell him to go fuck himself with a rod iron._

 _I begin to push myself up, but within a split second a steal toed boot collides with my face and I'm lying in the dirt again, too weak to even yell out because of the pain._

I slight jerk pushes me out of my reverie.

Slowly I open my eyes, but everything around me remains black. I blink a couple times, but still everything is dark.

 _Where the hell am I?_

I begin to move, and instantly regret it as pain courses through my entire body.

 _Fucker did a good job on me. Surprised I'm no dead. What a shame…_

My ears pick up laughter from somewhere.

Trying to ignore the pain, I attempt to move once again, and find that my legs hit something after moving only two inches at most. Confused, I try to move my hands but find that they're tied behind my back.

Panic starts to rise within my chest, and I can feel the vomit stuck in my throat as I try to hold myself together. Just then another memory comes to me.

 _"_ _Where should we throw her body, boss?"_

 _"_ _We''ll drop her off at Alexandria. Give Rick and the rest of them a little reminder, just to keep them on their toes. Throw her in the trunk and we'll head out."_

Light bulbs started going off in my head one by one.

I'm in the trunk of a car, heading somewhere called Alexandria. I heard him talking about it before, but he never went into detail what it was.

He beat me. All because I gave my food to a kid who could've passed for a walker. I remember him knocking the food out of the kid's hand and smacking him around a bit. I got between him and the kid, and got a couple good punches on him before his men were on top of me. At this point I was seeing red and hadn't fully realized what I had done. That was, until his boot collided with my jaw.

The events of what must've only been a couple hours ago makes me cringe, and I swallow the bile that begins to come back up again. It feels as if my head is being split in two as slowly as fucking possible. Who knows, maybe that's what's happening.

Laughter fills the car once again, and with this I notice other sounds.

The sound of tires against gravel. The sound of the car engine that sounds like it could break down at any second. And faintly, I can hear the sound of walkers as we drive passed them.

Suddenly the car comes to a screeching stop which causes my head to smack against the trunk wall in front of me, intensifying the pain.

 _Asshole…_

I can hear the sound of car doors opening and closing, and my anxiety begins to build and build until I'm wishing I was still unconscious. The sound of boots walking closer and closer to the trunk only further increases my anxiety, and I mentally prepare myself for what may happen.

Suddenly I'm encased in light and hands appear in my face, grabbing at me. My attempt to recoil from them is feeble and I'm roughly yanked from the trunk and thrown onto the ground. I keep my eyes closed, deciding that pretending to be dead is better then being awake.

 _His_ voice breaks my concentration as I hear him speak.

"Open the gate", he chuckles. _God is laugh is sickening._

His laughter quickly dies as I'm assuming the gate does not open like he demands.

"Open the fucking gate!" All sick humor devoid from his voice.

A couple seconds later, a loud, shrill creaking noise appears followed by a low thud. I consider opening my eyes to see what's going on but quickly decide against it.

"Rick! How's it going?" He says.

"Negan." A rough voice says. "We weren't expecting you for another week."

Negan laughs, "If I didn't know you any better I would think you didn't want to see me, Rick."

The other man, who I now know as Rick, stays silent. Smart man.

The laughter that was in Negan's voice grows, and he says, "We brought a _gift_ for you."

I feel hands on me once again and I'm lifted into the air, very roughly I might add. The pain intensifies but I will myself to stay conscious.

The men that are lifting me harshly drop me to the ground, and I hear Rick exclaim, "What the hell is this?"

"She's a little reminder, that's all." I can practically see the smile on Negan's face as he says this. _Sadistic bastard…_

Then a woman's voice cuts in, "You didn't have to beat the poor girl. Is she even alive?"

All of a sudden I feel something collide with my stomach and I instantly curl up and let out a small cry. Tears start to pool from my eyes, my iron wall starting to crumble away. The pain is just too much…

"See, she's alive. I only beat her a bit", Negan explains.

I hear scuffling, followed by Rick saying, "Michonne. Don't."

Negan chuckles quietly. "Might wanna get her in check, Rick. Or do I have to remind you people once _again_ what I do when people fuck with me?"

A few, quiet seconds pass before Rick softly answers, "No."

"Good! I'm glad we got this all figured out. Now, take good care of her. If I find out she's dead we're gonna have problems", Negan says as he starts to walk away from where I'm laying on the ground.

A car door opens, but before it can close Rick hollers, "And why's that? Who is she?"

 _Please God…don't…_

Negan says with a smile, "She's my daughter."

And with that he closes the car door and drives off, leaving me with people that most likely hate my father as much as I do.

 _This should end well._


	2. Chapter 2

Dirt is kicked from the car's tires into my face as Negan drives away, leaving me bloody and broken on the ground. I've been dreaming since I was a little girl of the day where I would be separated from my father. The idea of never having to see that man's face again brings me more joy then the idea of death.

While lost in thought, I am unaware of the chaos that is going on around me.

"What the fuck is this shit", a rough sounding voice exclaims.

The sounds of people quietly murmuring to one another begins to grow louder and louder, until Rick says,

"Everyone calm down. Just go about your day like you normally would."

Different voices begin to shout their displeasure with this request and start bombarding Rick with questions. Having enough of this, Rick aggressively yells,

"Enough!"

The voices quickly go silent, and the only sound heard is of the dirt being crunched under peoples feet as they move away from the scene.

Once everyone has left and all is quiet again, the rough voice from earlier speaks.

"Rick, I know what you're thinking, but—."

"Stop. If we can't trust her then we'll deal with it", Rick calmly interrupts.

Suddenly I feel a hand softly on my shoulder. Too weak to move away, the same hand continues to move under my neck as another hand moves under my knees. I find myself being lifted up from the ground, and the pain is so unbearable that I lose consciousness once again and my world turns dark.

"—rid of her", someone harshly says.

I feel as if my head is swimming, and the voices around me sound muddied. Whether the voices are real or just in my head I don't know.

"She needs medical attention. We already talked about this", another man says.

 _What was his fucking name? Rick?_

"You wanna waste supplies on her? What the fuck is wrong with you", the harsh sounding voice asks.

The voice sounds familiar, and I realize that it's the same rough voice that I heard from earlier, right after Negan left. I notice little things about it this time. It has a slight twang in it, but not as thick as Rick's accent. This voice is deeper. Rough, but also soft at the same time. It's fascinating. He almost sounds gentle, despite the harsh words coming out of his mouth.

A woman's voice cuts in. "If we treat her the way Negan expects us to treat her, then we're no better then him. Anyways, we all know what he expects us to do to her."

I hear the rough/soft voice say, "Whatever", and his feet as they stomp out of the room, followed by the slamming of a door.

Rick sighs. "He's never going to come around."

"Can you blame him," the woman asks.

A sharp pain courses down my side and I gasp.

"She's awake," the woman says.

 _Fuck._

I go to sit up, but my arms feel as if they're held down by something. When I open my eyes, I realize that's just the case. My arms are handcuffed to the railings of the gurney that I'm currently laying on. Without looking at anyone I laugh, "Is this normally how you welcome people?"

Someone clears their throat next to me. I turn my head and come face to face with a very scruffy looking man. His forehead is lined with wrinkles, his beard looks like it's starting to grey with age, but it's his eyes that really get to me.

I've always been very good at reading people with their eyes, and what I see in this mans eyes both scares and comforts me. As I stare into his blue irises, I can almost feel the pain and loss that he's endured. I can see how tired he is both physically and emotionally.

 _Me too buddy._

"My name is Rick", he continues. "Do you know where you are?"

Still a little groggy, either from the beating or the meds they must've given me, I don't answer right away. I screw my eyes shut again, trying to form a coherent thought.

"Alexandria," I finally answer.

"You've heard of us then." It's not a question so I don't say anything. "What do you know about Alexandria," he continues.

As I go to answer a sharp pain shoots down my side again and attempting to stifle my scream I bit down on my lip. The taste of metallic lingers in my mouth for a couple seconds before disappearing.

"Rick, this can wait."

I look over and lock eyes with the woman. Her dreads hang over her shoulders as she stairs at me strongly. Her eyes are harder to read. They're more guarded and cold.

"I know that, but—", Rick starts.

As Rick and the woman continue to go on and on about whether or not to let me rest, I begin to take in my surroundings.

The walls are a faint blue color, but the light coming from the many windows make them seem white. Through the doorway leading out of the room I can see a staircase and what I'm assuming as the front door leading outside. I turn my head to look out the window, and what I see takes my breath away.

In the street are a couple kids, maybe seven years old, playing soccer or whatever with each other. They have these goofy, stupid grins on their faces.

The scene does something to me. I find that my cheeks are wet with tears that have started to poor from my eyes.

Noticing this, Rick turns back towards me and asks, "Is it the pain?"

I laugh. _What a funny question._

"I'm fine.", as I smile to myself, and turning back to him, I ask, "What do you wanna know?"

As Rick goes to open his mouth, the woman steps up next to me and asks, "Do you know who we are?"

I begin to think…

Alexandria…

Didn't Negan say something about getting a new place to 'work with us'…

Suddenly light bulbs start firing off in my head.

"Yes. At least, I think so." I explain, "Four days ago Negan came back to camp from one of his 'trips' and he starts talking about running into a group who had attacked one of his bases. He had been looking for you guys ever since you showed up."

Rick walks up to the other side of the gurney and asks, "Did he say anything specific?"

Not wanting to beat around the bush, I turn towards Rick and say, "He told us everything he did to your group. What he did to a couple of your guys…"

I remember the night he came back and told everyone in camp what he did to them. How he 'sicked Lucille' on them, and how they were all crying like pussies.

Not realizing it, I ball my hands into fists and can feel my nails digging into my palms. Just the thought of his blood running through my veins makes me want to slit my wrist open and let all drain out of my body.

"The men Negan killed in our group, they were very important to us," Rick says. He glances over at the woman with dreads quickly before turning back to me and continuing, "Why should we let you live?"

"Rick—," the woman starts but is quickly interrupted by Rick.

"Michonne," and with that the woman is silent.

"You know what Negan has done to our family, and we know that you're his daughter", Rick gazed hard at me. "Why should we let you live after all your father has done to us", he asks.

I look intently into his eyes. He's not trying to be threatening. He's genuinely curious. Even in the short time I've known this man, I've already come to respect him.

"I don't have a good answer for you, so I'm not gonna try to make you think of me as a good person, because I'm not. I've done terribly things…" Taking a deep breath, I continue, "But I'm not my father. Even though we're related I'm nothing like him, and I know you people have no reason to believe me, but I will tell you this: I've never lied. Not once. I'm true to my word. With this said, if you choose to kill me I'll understand. I would want to hurt the person associated with the person that hurt my family too, if I had one that is."

When I return my gaze back to Rick, I see him looking at me with an emotion I've never seen before. I think people call it 'sympathy' or some shit like that.

Rick's eyes flicker from me to the woman with dreads. "Michonne?"

As Rick and Michonne walk out of the room to talk privately, I look outside the window again, and see that the children are no longer out there playing. For some reason this saddens me.

When Rick and Michonne walk back into the room, they both just stare at me for a second, until Michonne finally speaks up.

"As of right now we're going to let you live. But you will remain here, and handcuffed."

I nod towards her direction, "I understand."

"Someone will be guarding you in here until you are healed enough. After that we don't know what we will do with you. That will depend on when the time comes."

As I go to speak, someone rushes into the room and exclaims,

"You guys aren't fucking serious?"

Every single head, including mine turns towards the doorway.

Standing there is a man, wearing a sleeveless vest, looking at me with piercing green eyes. The intensity of his stare keeps me frozen. He's terrifying, but I'm used to terrifying. I look right in his eyes, trying to figure out what's going on in his head, but before I can get a good look he's on top of me.

He grabs a hold of my neck and starts to squeeze. The air in my lungs immediately leaves me body and I can already feel the blood rushing to my face. I see his other arm come up behind him, curled into a fist, ready to make contact with my head. Rick and Michonne grab a hold of him trying to get him off of me, but he doesn't budge.

"Daryl!" Rick yells.

This man's, Daryl's, hand squeezes tighter around my neck, but I'm not afraid. I welcome it. I welcome the idea of him killing me.

I let go.

I relax my whole body, and in response he squeezes my neck harder.

My lips begin to curl up into a big grin at the thought of death right around the corner, and right before my vision begins to blur, I say,

"It's ok."

Suddenly his hand releases my neck, and his eyes go wide as he stares down at me. My vision is already starting to blacken, and I can feel myself drifting off.

Right before I lose all consciousness though, I swear I feel wetness on my cheeks once again. The only thing is, this time, they aren't my tears.


End file.
